


Fear of the Dark

by EmmyFan



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M, Non-graphic implied abuse of minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 13:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmyFan/pseuds/EmmyFan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hotch thinks about Reid, about how much he has lived through and how strong he is through it all. But why is this brave young man scared of the dark, when he has faced things far scarier? One-shot</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear of the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> This is my idea of what made Reid scared of the dark. Spoilers for 'Elephant's Memory' ,but set before it, and general stuff across the seasons (but nothing too recent).

   Hotch looked out across the bullpen to see it almost empty. Computers shut down, desk lamps off, the whole room dim except for the light seeping from the hall and lamps at two desks in the middle of the room, casting long shadows from two figures. Hotch watched Morgan as he packed up his bag, leaving his unfinished work in the draw for tomorrow. He leaned across his desk and switched off the lamp, casting his face into the shadows. The muscular man strode out, looking back only to shout "Night Pretty Boy, go home soon," as he left.

Hotch looked as the hunched figure of his youngest agent glanced up from his last piece of paperwork (regardless of the fact Hotch knew that his words with the other agents about handing their own work off onto the young man had had no effect). He watched as Reid swung his head around, seeming to only just notice that the majority of the other agents had left quite some time ago and darkness had descended on the office. He quickly finished his work, though not as quickly as he usually did as he frequently stopped to cast his eyes around the empty room, gaze pausing in the most shadowed corners as if to check that nothing lurked there. He never once glanced up at the catwalk around the pen, or he may have noticed his boss watching him through the closed blinds of his office.

As he watched his agent hurry from the bullpen, head swinging everywhere searching the dark for danger, Hotch wondered what had given this young man the fear. Fear of the dark, nyctophobia, is by no means unusual, even in adults, but Hotch knew (regardless of appearances and what many assumed) Spencer Reid was one of the strongest, bravest men he had ever met. This was a man who had been kidnapped and tortured on the job and still returned to work with the same vigour, who beat a drug addiction with no help, no intervention and no solid evidence left of the problems (even to his team of expert profilers), who had cared for a schizophrenic mother when he was not old enough to be looking after himself, and who had faced down armed killers more times than could be counted and managed to take them down with just his words almost as many times. This man, who had been through so much, was still the same happy, hard-working, likeable (Garcia would say loveable) man he was when he first joined the BAU. Hotch wondered what had happened to this resilient young man to instil this fear into him. He knew Reid would never say, he'd never said anything about his mother's schizophrenia until it became unavoidable, or (now Hotch came to think about it) volunteered any personal detail beyond recent documentaries he had watched. Hotch wondered what else his agent hadn't mentioned, what else he had faced alone.

**1993**

_The football team had finally left hours ago, leaving the small boy still tied to the goal post. They had taken his clothes with them. Spencer hung from his ropes, exhausted by his struggles, his embarrassment and their beatings. His tear-stained face lifted as he heard footsteps approach. He didn't know if he felt fear or relief, fear that his tormentors had returned, relief that he wouldn't be left to freeze here all night as the desert heat had been lost soon after the sun had set and he didn't know if he could survive the night in this bitter cold. Spencer felt hands on his bonds, then fingers go lower passing feather touches over his sides. Spencer began to struggle but, like with the footballers earlier, he didn't stand a chance._

_After the man was done he untied the ropes cutting into Spencer's wrists. Without the support he slumped to the ground. By the time he found the strength to raise his head the man was gone and he was once again alone on the football field. Spencer limped home as fast as the pain radiating through his body would allow, as monsters with groping hands and no mercy leered at him out of the dark._


End file.
